


How to Properly Make a PB&J

by GigglesAndFreckles



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Sandwiches, a condescending guide by nat, a sandwich tutorial is probably the best name for it, agentrodgers, i don't even know what to call this, learning how to properly make a sandwich, peanut butter and jelly specifically, ryan this is your fault, sort of crackish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 14:17:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2028204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GigglesAndFreckles/pseuds/GigglesAndFreckles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the past, Clint had always made the sandwiches. This was most certainly for the best.</p>
<p>Our favorite heroine is very particular about something seemingly very simple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How to Properly Make a PB&J

**Author's Note:**

> This is 100% Ryan's fault. You can find her on tumblr, agentrodgers. I just wanted to write to get some more juices flowing, and I was inspired by her tutorial. Turns out, I didn't know how to make PB&Js a week ago. 
> 
> Enjoy this piece of meaningless nothing. I had fun.

In the past, Clint had always made the sandwiches. 

He was fast, he was efficient, and more importantly, he made absolutely amazing sandwiches. 

All of the Avengers had their favorites, of course, and Clint could cater to all of them. Thor liked BLTs, Steve just wanted ham and cheese. Bruce liked anything with pepperoni, and both Tony and Clint would eat anything hot off the griddle. 

Natasha always asked for a peanut butter and jelly. The first time she put in her request, the others had been almost shocked at it’s childlike simplicity, but Clint just smiled and nodded like he had heard an inside joke for the hundredth time.

Clint always made the sandwiches, and everyone always ended up happy. 

But Clint was off training new recruits. Natasha would have gone with him, but that didn’t go too well last time. (Those interns only needed a few weeks of minor therapy, Fury overreacted.) 

So today Tony was making the sandwiches. It was a lazy day, already afternoon by the time any voiced their opinions about food. 

Everyone was gathered in the fancy living room watching some procedural cop show. Steve and Bruce both sat like regular people, on the couch with their backs to the backs, but Thor was laying sideways across the recliner and Natasha was also on the couch, just upside down. 

Tony walked in and out of the living room, bringing one sandwich at a time. Bruce, then Steve, then Thor. On his last trip he brought out both Natasha’s and his own. 

Everyone was eating in peace, watching the horrible excuse for science playing on screen. If you looked closely, you could see Bruce starting to recoil after listening too long. 

It was almost a domestic scene. 

Right up until the moment Natasha took a bite of her PB&J and everything came to a grinding halt. 

“This is wrong,” she deadpanned. 

“Wrong?” Tony asked, incredulous. “Nat, it’s a PB&J. You can’t make it wrong.” 

Natasha’s eyebrow lifted, a challenge clear on her face. She set her incorrect sandwich on the couch next to her, flipped right side up, and began dragging Tony by the wrist into the kitchen. 

She started getting everything she needed out of cupboards, muttering under her breath. “Grown man doesn’t know how to make a sandwich. This is not in my job description. Should’ve just made your own, Nat.” 

Tony was offended, but he wasn’t sure why. He really should have just been confused. Natasha insulted his sandwich making skills, and Tony was at least 74% sure there was only one way to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. 

Natasha laid out her two pieces of bread and began to spread her peanut butter. She adopted the most condescending voice she possibly could. “So you take your peanut butter, but because you are not some sort of animal, you put it on both.”

“No you don’t!” Tony cried. 

“Yes,” Natasha said, gesticulating with her knife. “You do.”

She continued with her careful sandwich creation. “Then you take the jelly and you slap it on both pieces again, because again, you are a civilized human being who knows how to use tools. After that, you can stick them together and not feel in a hurry to eat because no jelly will seep through and make anything soggy and disgusting.”

Natasha followed her own steps. When she lifted the plate with the correct sandwich she walked back into the living room with an aura of such smug sassiness that Tony wanted to applaud. 

He did not, however. Instead, he took the incorrect sandwich back into the living room. More for him. 

Nothing lost, nothing gained, and nothing changed. 

Except that when Clint got back, Tony had a new respect for how well he knew his fellow assassin and the small smile she would gift him when handed a perfectly made PB&J. 

But that did not mean he was ever making one for her ever again.


End file.
